Tristan and Ysolde ( as told by Yseult)
by GwenynGwanunig
Summary: Everyone knows the story of the starcrossed lovers Tristan and Ysolde. So does Yseult, since she is Ysolde's cousin and also in love with Tristan since she first met him. It has been years since Ysolde and Tristan dissapeared together and that Yseult, heart broken, lives a peaceful life alone. But it seems even here the past won't leave her alone.
1. Chapter 1

My hands dig into the earth. I sigh as I tear the brown material apart, trying to root out the vegetables I've been growing. The sun is a pleasant warmth on my back and I smile as it warms my body. For England is always cold, mostly , and it rains all the time, but do I love my country.

Once I've torn out the vegetable I stand up, ready to go back to my small house. It's small and it's cosy, but I don't mind, it's enough for me. My aunt once said a woman has no prospects without a husband. Yet, look at me, I am 23 and live on my own, seeing to my own needs.

I step inside my house, drop the basket on the table when a blue strip of cloth catches my eye. An immediately I am brought back to my past, my childhood with my cousin Isolde.

 _-"Yseult !" Ysolde, my cousin, smiles as she takes hold of my hand. -" Let's play princess and knight. " I grin. -"Okay."_

 _-" You be the knight!" I frown at her words. -" I don't want to bet he knight."_

 _Ysolde puts her hands on her side and then her eyes brighten. " I'll play the princess first and then we'll switch." I smile and both of us run outside._

 _Even as a child, my cousin Ysolde was beautiful. Her hair is a golden blonde that glimmers in the sunlight. Her hair hangs long into beautiful loose curls down her back. Her face is white as snow, and her eyes are the blue of the sky. Her lips are pink and pretty and even now she turns heads everywhere. I'm kind of proud of having such a beautiful cousin._

 _Me? Well, my mother, lady Isenna, is, or rather was Ysolde mother's sister. Since they got along so well and we were born with the same hair colour, they decided to name us alike. My aunt named her child Ysolde and I was namedYseult._

 _There is a little difference though, between us. My aunt married a rich man while my mother though from noble blood, fell in love with a wandering hand worker. Though they loved each other dearly, they were poor and so while Ysolde was born in a warm bed, in a room filled with warmth and candles, I was born in a small broken house, where the sun brought the only warmth._

 _I'm different I'm not as beautiful as Ysolde, you see. I have blonde hair as well, but mine is a more light blonde, lighter then Ysolde's golden locks and my eyes are grey. My mother used to liken it to a stormy sky when it's about to rain._

 _I'm pale, but not the beautiful noble pale of Ysolde. The servants in my aunt's house call it " peasant pale". It is a pale colour that is not as flawless as Ysolde's skin. Also, my cheeks get a little rosy whenever it is really warm or cold. Isolde not, she stays the same pale color as porcelain, always._

 _But that's okay. Mother said I was like my father. Plain in looks, but with a heart of gold. Unfortunately Mother is not here anymore. She's been gone for over two years now, but I still am sad when I think about her, though I don't cry for her anymore._

 _-" Yseult!" Ysolde screams and I smile. I follow her into the fields._

I smile at the small ribbon and then put it away . I turn to the small fire flickering in the cornier of my small house and then put some more wood on it. I'm tired so make it an early night. But yet again, Idream of a person from so long ago even if I've not seen them in years.

It's pouring down, so I am stuck at the doorway. It irks me in a way. I'd looked forward to spent some time picking berries and nuts in the woods but it seems it will be for another day. I don't mind the rain most of the time for it holds me back from remembering my past life. Though today I can't hep i, and I stray back to when I and Ysolde first arrived in Camelot, the newly chosen base of our new king , Arthur Castus.

 _-" Ooh, I can't wait to see Camelot!" Ysolde gushes. She turns to me, blue eyes full of excitement. Her maid is helping her dress in a beautiful blue gown, the color of her eyes. And I , I am am contending myself with cleaning up her mess._

 _I love Ysolde, but with the years, the difference between us has become obviously clear. Ysolde has grown to be a beauty and I well, I look like a failed version of my cousin._

 _It became painstakingly clear once I fell in love with a poet. His name was Kent and he traveled the country to earn his money with songs and poems. He was not particularly beautiful but he was really charming and so I fell head over heels in love with him._

 _Of course I wasn't sure of his feelings for me. I had always been brought up with the fact I could not be alone with a man without a chaperone, but the time we spent, with the proper attendance of course, revealed us to be able to speak of many interests ._

 _I was but 15 and foolish and only afterwards, when he announced at a feast his intention to marry my cousin Ysolde did I understand he only had been interested in me trying to find out more about beautiful Ysolde._

 _It broke my heart. Yet I was not allowed to grief. When I was in a sullen mood Ysolde said he was not worth it. How could she kow? She'd never spoken to him beforehand and had been flattered by his interest._

 _While I cried for my broken heart, I heard her giggle in her rooms with her maids about how he'd been interested in her._

 _And that was Ysolde for the most part. She needed all the attention on her, like a flower that needs sunlight. She liked attention, whether in the form of men or her family or her maids, she was used to getting attention and she liked it._

 _And the thing is, it didn't end there. It happened few more times and so after a failed romance or two, or rather where a romance could have bloomed I gave up._

 _I was always more pragmatic then Ysolde, serious most of the time and quiet, taking my task with the same seriousness I took everything in my life._

 _While Ysolde flounced and fluttered around in her pretty dresses and long golden hair, waking up with the cushions and sheets thrown from her bed, I stood behind her, made her sheets and bed, brushed her hair until it shone, polished her jewelry until it glittered and helped her with everything I could._

 _I wanted Ysolde to be happy, for even if I was bitter that my love life always seemed to cross with hers, I adored her, even if she was a self centered spoiled child at times._

 _-" You should wear more colors, Yseult.'' Ysolde pouted, her blue eyes looking at me and the dress I wore._

 _I shrugged, continuing to put away her dresses and silks. My dress was blue as well, though it was a muted dark blue without any embellishments. It was much more sturdier then Ysolde's dress with silks and ornaments._

 _I wore no jewelry at all and my hair in a braid pinned that went down my back. A few bronze pins holdings some of the fly aways from my face._

I sigh, waiting for the rain to stop. Eventually the drizzle is gone and I can go out. Softly humming a song while walking along a well known path in the forest, I put down my basket to pluck some berries and nuts. It is perhaps monotonous, but it helps me keep my thoughts away.

I bow forward and then a small jingle catches my ear. I turn to find a small pin on the ground. I frown, and look at it. Had I not gotten rid of all of them, especially after everything that happened? Apparently not, because it seems even here my past haunts me.

Still, I suppose I can't make make the past disappear, that I can't keep hiding any longer, so I close my eyes, reliving the first moment i came to Camelot, the first time I met **him.**

 _The stone walls are tall and I breathe a sigh of wonder at the enormous construction that surrounds us._

 _My breath is taken away so that I don't realize when the king and his knights have arrived. When Ysolde bows, I hurriedly follow and already i can feel the appreciating glances of the men around us._

 _-" What's your name, my lady? " The king adresses her directly. Ysolde blushes in pleasure._

 _-" My name is Ysolde , Your Highness." She bows again. and while she and the king converse, i busy myself with bringing together yet again objects she's left to fall. That girl is such an airhead sometimes, I think with a small fond grin._

 _-''These are my knights." The king speaks and nods to them. As he introduces them one by one, there is one of the knights that picks my interest. He is tall, with unkempt hair and a braid by his ear. Blue marks are beneath his left eye. The king introduces him as Tristan. His eyes are locked on Ysolde and with a small pang I realise he hasn't even noticed me._

 _-" Are you with any famil here?" The queen, Guinevere, politely inquires. Ysolde nods._

 _-'' I"m here with my cousin, your grace." Their eyes flicker around but do not seem to find what they seek for. -" Your cousin? I don't see anyone."_

 _I step, forward, box with Ysolde's trinkets still in hand. -" I'm here, Your Highness. My name is Yseult." They size me up and immediately I can see them make the difference between me and Ysolde. I smile and then quickly turn to my cousin, already used to the mocking glances i receive. -" Ysolde, I will bring your belongings to your room."_

 _She nods and watches me go as I hurriedly get away, still feeling eyes of a certain knight on me._

 _That evening, after Ysolde is settled in, I walk outside, ready to get refreshments when I bump into someone. He is rather tall and my nose hurts so I hiss and blink the tears in my eyes away. To my surprise it is the knight, Tristan. He syas nothing only, looks at me._

 _-" Hrrm, I'm sorry." I say. -" I didn't see you there." I hear the door of Ysolde's room open up behind me. -" Yseult, brush my hair, please?" Ysolde appears in the doorway and immediately his attention is drawn to her. -" Oh, who are you?" She says in a soft breathy whisper._

 _-" My name is Tristan." He says, and I can't help but feel my pulse going up at his raspy but deep voice. I turn to look at them and it strikes me how good they would be together, as a couple._

 _I swallow harshly and close my eyes._

A sigh leaves me as I throw the pin away. My heart pounds loudly in my ears and I grit my teeth, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

Old anger, old fury, old grief comes to the surface and I pound my fist into the ground. A breaking branch catches my attention from my ordeal and to my surprise a small rabbit is seated not far from me. It's nose goes quickly in fear and it's eyes are wide.

I wonder for a moment why it doesn't move, my anger and memories forgotten. Then I spy blood on it's body. Any other living n the woods would kill it and eat it's flesh.

But I don't.

I take the rabbit in my hands, wrap a piece of my selfmade apron around it and then start walking back the way I came, the pin with the silver bell attached to it in the sun, still glittering in the sun.

Once home, I dress the rabbit's wound and lay it on a pice of warm cloth and give it water and milk. Once she's better I let her jump around and decide to call her Rosemary. Though I let her go free but she comes back the next morning and refuses to leave my side. After that, she accompanies me everywhere I go and her sweet presence heals my grief for something I will never have.


	2. Chapter 2

The bag is heavy on my shoulder. I've just bought meat from a local passerby. Summer has gone and autumn has come and leaves are starting to fall.

Rosemary's fur is thick and shiny, yet i suppose it's never a bad thing to start early. So I scour the woods from morning til evening to build up my stores. Though Rosemary's fur is thick, i wrap her in an extra cloth and transport her in my basket, and let her eat and hop around while I seek food.

I know she is starting to complete her feeding to go into hibernation, and have made her a small cozy home where she can sleep the winter away, but not out in the cold. I know I'll have to start stitching a new, thicker dress then the one I wear now, because soon enough it will be time to change clothing.

That evening I sit near the heard as I break apart apart wood to keep the fire going, Rosemary on my lap.

As I stroke her fur I close my eyes and let myself drift. Before I know I am asleep and dream of when I understood Tristan and Ysolde were a couple

 _-" Have you heard? " Meira whispers. She is one of the ladies at the court of Camelot and has become part of Ysolde's posse._

 _Our days have gotten a routine nowadays._

 _Ysolde wakes then I make her bed. I help her wash and brush her hair. I pick out a dress and do her hair and then eat breakfast with her. Then she flits around with her fadies, meets with friends and since shortly she has been horse riding. Or rather sitting on her horse while someone holds it and and Tristan is beside her on his horse and they're gone for hours._

 _I have never owned a horse, though I can ride well enough. I've just never had the luxury. Ysolde's horse, is like her, beautiful. It's a white mare with long white curling manes and tail and she is so elegant when she walks she and Ysolde are a beautiful sight._

 _I've heard rumors about Tristan and Ysolde always being together and of course I've also seen them together but a couple?_

 _It breaks my heart more then I can admit._

 _Because I, even if I will never admit it but in the private darkness of my bed, over the months we've spent here, I have fallen in love with Tristan. I have not seen him much, only spoken a few times with him, and often just to inquire about Ysolde, but he is kind, even in his coldness and distance._

 _And it breaks me to see while I grew head over heels in love with him he and Ysolde grew closer and fell in love._

 _-" Yseult?' Meira inquires, her eyes searching mine. -" I'm okay." I say but even to me my voice is bitter. It all meant nothing then. His touches when he spoke to me, the stolen glances across the room, the flower he picked and bound in my hair when we all went out to see the first rays of sunlight after a particular long night at Camelot. Everything, the touches, the glances, his short and curt conversations, it was all nothing, meant nothing._

 _I chide my emotional side. Of course I've read to much into it. after all, our conversations were never more then how are you, how is Ysolde, how is your day going and the glances and touches were always to either help me carry something._

 _Even the flower he gave me was meant for me to sow back onto Ysolde's headpieces. I hate to admit it, but it's logical. He would never fall for me, who is a cheap imitation of Ysolde. And when they step out of door together, I understand what Meira means._

 _They stand close, Ysolde's hand possessively on Tristan's arm. He might say nothing, but his stance, the look in his eyes are full of quiet adoration. So when Ysolde turns her laughing face to him, and the lovers' eyes fall onto me, I hold up my cup, nod and take a deep swipe._

It's not my on memory that night, the next I hate even more. I toss and turn, but it seems tonight I cannot escape my past.

 _-" My my, what is that?" Ysolde's maids and ladies in waiting, flit around me in a flurry of colors and expensive silks.I can hear them muttering but I don't know what to say._

 _Before me, laying on one of the tables of Ysolde's private quarters is a long light blue dress made of light material. The top of the dress is taken in at the top with a band of embroidery before spreading below the chest out in a long wide skirt._

 _The wide skirt, which starts to flare out at the op, consists of a thick dark blue layered underskirt and two light blue top layers laying over it._

 _With each movement I know the beautiful multi layered underskirt will show._

 _The sleeves, growing wider at the wrist, sport small embroidery at the end as well. It is a beautiful dress indeed._

 _-" Where did you get that?" one of the ladies in waiting asks. I frown. -" It was given to me at the door by a young man. He said it was for miss Yseult."_

 _-" You?" One of the ladies sputters, eyes drawn in laughter. surely such fine dress does not belong to you._

 _-"Aerina!" Ysolde's sweet voice is loud . Aerina turns and then mutters an apology._

 _-" Don't be mean. Yseult can't help it that she is plain." Though probably meant well, her remark makes the others fall into another salve of laughter. Red flutters on my cheeks and I sigh.._

 _Ysolde worries her lip and then her eyes fall on the dress -"Oh, there it is!" she grins. I turn to her, stunned. -" Huh?"_

 _\- " That's the dress Tristan bought for me. He said I had to wear it for the next feast tonight."_

 _I frown. -" But the boy said it was for Miss Yseult." Ysolde shakes her head. - " A mistake. He always calls me Yseult, that delivery boy, but it is the dress that Tristan made for me."_

 _I nod, bitterness filing my throat. " Of course, if it's from Tristan it's for you. Te deliver boy made a mistake. Shall i help you get it on?" Ysodle nods and I smile, tamping down my bitterness._

 _That evening, I hear agreeing murmurs when Ysolde descends in her beautiful shimmering silk dress. Though maybe less ornate then some of her other dresses, it really brings out her eyes. It would bring mine out even better I can't help but think._

 _-" You know what." Meira mutters. -" I think it would have been more beautiful on you." I smile, thankful for her words and then look down at my plain green dress. It's the same sturdy material as my other dresses, but with a small brown thread at the top and undersides. It is a long dress, stiff and thick. Even the earrings I wear are much duller then Ysolde's sparkling silver and gold, but i don't mind._

 _Beauty does not give a woman work or help her survive._

 _With that thought I nod, heft my glass and turn to Meira, ever trying to hide the fact even I realize that my dress is dull and ugly. I catch Tristan's gaze, cold and angry across the room when Ysolde flits to him, says something in his ear and then he nods and leads her away._

I wake, heart pounding ,sitting up in my chair as the wind pound outside. I stand slowly and put the sleeping Rosemary in her bed and then take of my dress and step into my small bed. When in am lying in it, I put a fist to my mouth to stifle my crying.

It doesn't help crying overt things that have been done and gone. it will not bring back what I want. The next morning the sky announces itself bleak and cold, but the sun is peaking through. And i have enough.

I decide I have enough of trying to hide my feelings. So I let the memories come, relive them one more time and then be done with it.

 _-"I have come to claim my bride." The noble's name is Marc and it seems Ysolde has been promised to him at her birth. King Arthur and queen Guinevere try to placate the man but he cannot be deterred._

 _Ysolde is his betrothed and shall be his wife. My heart goes out to my cousin, because I know that she will not want to marry him. So I hurry along the halls while the noble argues with king Arthur._

 _-"Ysolde!" I call. -" Ysolde!. Ysolde opens her door but her eyes are red. -" Oh Ysolde ,why did you not tell me?" I whisper. She hiccups and then runs into my arms. -" I didn't want it to be true."_

 _\- " Come." I hush her. - " You need some air." We walk outside, Ysolde still whimpering as I stroke her arms._

 _We walk outside of Camelot into the fields and though rain is starting to fall, we both don't mind as I lead her beneath a tree. She explains how she was betrothed to him when she was young but how she had always considered it something to be changed. But when she refused his gifts and his question when she would marry him, she always refused him or flat out ignored him. His pride hurt, he came to Camelot to demand the hand of his promised bride._

 _\- " And now i have to marry him because his pride has been humiliated, unless an enormous compensation is provided." She whimpers. For a moment all is silent when she looks up at me._

 _-" But why is he so angry? Even with his pride hurt I've never hurt Marc to be so angry or furious for you refusing him. I heard the choice for his very first wife refused him also and then he married another noble girl. It can't be that a maiden has refused him before." I say, wondering. Ysolde's eyes flit form left to right and I know she's hiding something._

 _-" Ysolde?" I ask, voice firm. -" I..I sent him a letter I did not wish to marry him but that my house provided a back up, you." Her words don't ring through but then I realize what she's saying._

 _" You..you sold my hand to a noble without my knowledge? You gave my hand, your cousin, to Marc without asking him if he agreed with it? To his eyes you have spat on his honor, Ysolde! You have ordered him a solution that is negated for months between two noble families. This is as low a blow you can give to his honor and his name as possible Ysolde! You know the proceedings between noble houses, you have learned them! What made you think he or I would accept your plan?! This is not a game, you silly child!" My whisper ends in a shriek as I cower away from her._

 _I feel hurt, betrayed by this...this selfish girl that is supposed to be my cousin. Family is supposed to look out for each other, but here she is, throwing my name and my standing around like it's worth nothing. A second rate to nothing. She's not only besmirched the honor of her fiancee but also mine. Worth nothing, lower than the lowest, this is what she has made of me. And I can't understand her actions. I can't help but feel disgusted, betrayed and furious at this selfish idiot of a noble lady._

 _" No.." I whisper in disgust. -" Yseult." Ysolde whimpers._

 _-"No! How could you? You tried to sell me into marriage to a noble to which you were supposed to wed because you don't want to? You cannot play with people's life like that!" Disgust is starting to fill me and as she cries a dark feeling makes itself master of me._

 _Gone is the adoration, gone is the love, only remains utter disgust for this pathetic spoiled child. I shake my head and step out form beneath the tree, my furious steps leading me away._

 _-"Yseult wait!" Isolde, for once, does not care for her pretty clothes and hair, but follows me into the rain pouring down from the sky. - " Yseult, please.." She whispers, panicked. I'm so tired. So tired of her schemes and her plays. So tired of her foolish and naive thinking._

 _" NO!" I scream and turn, my cloths and hair sticking to my body, rivulets of water rolling across my body. Ysolde stops, wt as well. -" Not this time, Ysolde. Enough is enough."_

 _-"But please understand.." I hiss at her. -" I don't want to understand." The sneer comes deadly and low from my mouth._

 _-" I want to be with Tristan, not with Marc!" Ysodle creams above the sound of battering rain. -" How can you be so selfish to not give me that chance, Yseult? where is the practical cousin know, who always took care of me? Why are you being so mean? Why.."_

 _White hot fury makes itself master of me. "Because i'm sick and tired of your naivity and your foolishness! I'm tired of having to run behind you, cleaning up behind and taking care of you while you only think of yourself and your dreams! Because I don't want you to bring any harm to Tristan! I roar._

 _Ysolde is silent. - " Why do you care about Tristan? Tristan is.."_

 _\- " Because I love him! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH it 's made me bitter. You don't know how it makes me feel, how much I hate myself for feeling this when I know you are in love with each other!"_

 _Ysolde's petulant worry comes back. -" You have no right to love him! He is mine!"_

 _-" I will be the judge of that." His voice is soft, but serious. My heart stutters in my chest. And I realize by looking into Tristan's eyes he's heard it.. He's heard what I said._

 _-" Tristan.." Ysolde whimpers. " Come." Tristan says, wrapping an arm around her. -" Let's get you dry. He quickly looks at me and then turns, as Ysolde starts crying in his chest, grasping him like a lifeline._

 _It's like a slap in my face. Here I am, screaming my feelings out and still he does not see me. The rain is still pouring down but i don't care. I can feel my heart breaking further and further and I physically feel it hurting._

 _So I do what I do best, turn and then start running as fast as I can._

 _A few days later, Ysodle and Tristan left Camelot, their horses walking through the gates, as did Marc with the weight of Ysolde in gold._

 _I never spoke nor saw my cousin and her lover again._

When I come back to myself I realize I am crying so hard, a strange eerie sound coming from my mouth. I cry and I keep crying until I quiet down.

Time has allowed me to admit what went wrong and what not. Years of of being on my own has me finally allowed to leave it behind.

So when the sun disappears again and clouds roll over, I don't mutter to myself but smile, then grab hold of my basket and sing a soft song. If there is one thing I regret about this memory is that I never talked it out with Ysolde.

Sure, what she did was wrong, but I was so hurt that I did not give her a chance to explain. And well, I miss her. I still love Tristan, I doubt I will ever not learn to love him, but I have made peace with what happened.

After all, Ysolde could not have known I loved him, nor could he have. Their happiness should not depend on my feelings for him.

All I hope is that they are happy now.

A wind rustles outside and some leaves are going by. I think that today I will just go for a walk. No working, just some thinking. I smile as I wrap a shawl around my neck and step out, face turn towards the sun, the wind caressing my grinning face.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Song to listen to : Celtic Dreams - Ready for the storm.**_

My roof is leaking. I mutter a curse under my breath as I push a self made shelf towards the roof and then star climbing up.

It seems i will have to change part of the straw and put some earth under it to avoid it leaking further. I'm calculating calculating under my breathe the portion of straw and earth I'll need when I hear the approaching of hooves.

I frown and wonder who it might be. Not really many people come this way.

The horse that approaches is the same as Tristan's, white with grey spots and grey manes. -" Can I help you?" I ask and turn, holding my weight onto the small shelf. Before I can completely turn, a sudden shadow perches on my roof.

It screeches and flaps it's wings so suddenly that I gasp and push myself backwards. I can feel myself falling and then there is darkness.

I wake in my hut, lain on my bed with a piece of wet cloth on my forehead, as well as a crudely made bandage on my hand.

-" Oww." I mumble and stroke my head. " what happened?"

-" You fell." his voice is so eerily familiar it nearly breaks my heart all over again. I don't dare to look but i can't help it anyway.

" Tr...Tristan?" Immediately I sit up, my head spinning when I try to get out of bed.

-" Down." his voice is absolute, stern and he pushes me down before I can say anything. He looks much the same, though he seems to have another scar or two on his arms.

I feel uneasy with him here, I must admit. -" What are you doing here, I ask?" Turning my face away. - " Should you not be with Ysolde?" At my question, Tristan arches a brow.

\- "I could care less about Ysolde." I frown and whip my head back to him. For all her faults, I will not allow him to be this negative about her. - " Don't you dare speak about my cousin like that." His eyes seem to warm slightly at my outburst.

-"That's exactly like you, Yseult. Loyal to a fault." His hand hovers above my head but I scramble back.

-"What is this?!" I spit, angry. - "What game are you playing?!"

\- "I'm not playing a game." Tristan says. I frown even deeper. - " You are. The Tristan I know would never be so kind or gentle. You were always with Ysolde? you never knew even my name. How should I believe you now? Surely you must be planning something. You cannot be like this, it's not possible." Don't give me hope after all these years.

Tristan's eyes turn cold. - " Don't judge a ook by it's cover only, Yseult."

I don' get it? I say, still upset. - " What are you talking about?" The samaritan lazily takes an aple that sits on my table and bites it before turning his gaze back to me. - " Ysodle.."

-"Ysolde? My cousin?" I mumble. - " I thought you were a couple?"

Tristan shakes his head. " We never were. Ysolde was beautiful yes, but she could never hold a candle to you, Yseult."

My heart throbs unexpectedly at his words. It's not possible what's he's saying, is it?I am quiet as I listen to him.

-"Ysolde was beautiful, but also what I expected of a typical highborn lady. You were different. Some might say you were plain, but there was something in you, when I first looked upon you. You were like a gentle sunrise to look at. And each time I looked at you, something else I discovered that I foudn beautiful? your hair, how it glimmered in the sun gently, unlike Ysolde's golden locks. Your greyish eyes, a normal colour at first, like a shell you in the sea.

The more times you look upon it, the more beauty you discover. And each time I looked at you, i thought your eyes more skin that reddened in the summer, showing you were often outdoors. Your practicality, how you worked hard, though you were noble born. Yout obvious love for your cousin. The smile on your lips when you felt the sun and breeze on your face.

Your smiling happy face when you stood in the rain. Your gentleness and kindness, the respect and friendlyness you showed to everyone, people oyu didn't know, disregarding their status and birth in life. Your sweet character, even your anger, all grew endearing to me over the years."

-"There was something about you that interested me from the very beginning when I first saw you, yet you wer always so busy, so quick to dissapear whenever you saw me I thought you hated me. And then, I understood soon enough you did not hate."

He continues. - " Because you always dissapeared whenever I came to you, I thought perhaps my reputation scared you. By then I had become friends with Ysolde, becausqe though spoiled, she was friendly and always respectful and appropiate distance when I was with her. Someone of her ladies must have discovered that I was interested in you in a way Ysolde could never compare to.

When she got wind of my interest in you; I didn't realize at first that the way she acted was to give you the impression that I was couple with her. Her arm around my arm? Her insistence that I always walk beside her? It made us look like a couple and though I stopped listenings to her demands immediately, making her clear her attention was unwaranted and unwanted, apparently the first seeds of doubts had already started to grow."

\- "Still, the way you sometimes looked at me, it had me hope and so I sent you a dress and that evening Ysolde wore it. She said you hadn't wanted it when she heard from who it was because I was to little of you.

I was so angry that ndeed it must have looked like I hated you and I realized quickly it was so unlike you I started to suspect foul play. But before I could speak to you, you were already gone."

\- "I confronted Ysolde about it and I heard she had told you it was a gift from me to her, I was going to tell you everything immediately. But Ysolde knew I would do anything to keep you from harm and so she threathened to tell lies about us. She would tell you that we were a couple and she told me that she would sent you away to be married at once."

Tristan sighs, his eyes clouded with a plethora of emotions as he recalls what happened.

\- " I did not believe her at first but she kept saying it and I knew when she threw her childish tantrums she was capable of it. My years off scouting have made me pretty good at reading people anf I know she would, just to spite me. So I kept quiet of my feelings and intentions to you."

Now he sits down at my table, hands on his knees, yet his gaze searches mine. -" Soon after word reached me of her entanglement with the nobleman Marc. By then, I kept my distance from her because I was so angry with her. When she started to realize however that her entanglement with Marc would have her possibly marry him, she wrote a letter to him to propose you as I bride instead. Lady..,who has grown fond of you, told me and helped me find the letter. I topre it apart and burned it before it could be sent. We took her writing utensils and before that she could rewrite her letter, Marc came to Camelot and demande Ysolde as his bride.

Not wanting to marry him, she proposed you as his wife instead. Marc however was enraged and offended that after all her flirting and pretence of a courtship, she was not willing to marry him."

He continues on, voice still steady and gaze still on me. -"She fled and while Arthur settled the case, I came to look for you. And before I could reach for you I discovered you and Ysolde screaming at each other in the fields.

When I came up to you both, I helped ysolde up because she was closest and hugged me so suddenly I had not expected it. The way she was wrapped around me, made it look like I was hugging her. I pushed her off, but you were gone again before I could tell you the truth, the full truth, Yseult!" His voice rises in anger but I don't shrink back. This anger, it's due to the circumstances that we have been through. I step closer to him and then lean against the table as he unclenches his fist and continues his story, in a softer voice.

-" You had dissa peared and I had to escort ysolde back to her home. It was an order from Arthur, my king. He promised me he would seek you out in Camelot, but you had already left and when and when I returned, I learned you were gone. "

-" I felt I had hurt you and perhaps I had dreamed or hoped to much. Perhaps you didn't like me, were not interested in me and never had. And then I discovered you took the dress I had gifted you and I wondered if perhaps you felt the sam for me as I did for you. It was enough to make me look for you immediately, but you were hard to find. I've been the last year on the search for you."

Some of it clicks into place but still I cannot help but be doubtfull. And then I look at him and his eyes are so kind, so sad and there is something there and I have hope again. Tears are gathering in my eyes, for the lost time, for everything that happened.

My lower lip trembles as I hide my face in my hands. - " I thought..I was in lvoe with you Tristan and I thought you hated me. It was not the first time Ysolde had taken the fancy of a party I was interested in. But you, I could not give you up. But Ysolden she was my cousin, I could not..

Even if I loved you..Even if I still love you!" A loud sob leaves my throat as I start crying. The chair beside me scrapes and then I feel Tristan's hands on mine.

-" You loved your cousin, you were torn by your loyalty to her. But don't doubt me, Yseult. I fell in love with you somewhere between your smiles and hasty glances at me. I do love you, Yseult, and I suspect I always will. It was always you Yseult, no one else. And tp hear you feel the same, I could not have asked more."

His face is so close and I blink up at him and then he presses his head to mine. -* " I amnot leaving Yseult and this time I want to do it right. At least if you still want me."

I hiccup and shake my head fervently. - " don't say such awful things, of course I want you. I want to be with you, I want you to stay with me. Can we start over? Can we begin again to know each other all over again so that this time it wil go right before we go further?"

A rare smile comes to Tristan's face. - " I could not be happier, Yseult, for this second chance. Of course we can start over. We will go slow, at our own rhythm, no pressure. And only when we both are ready, will we take the next step in our relationship. First, let's get to know each other all over again."

I nod and smile. -" Now to bed with you, Yseult. You're still weak."I nod and climb back into bed. I hear Tristan move around and though I lie awake I hear eventually his breath deepen into sleep and a small smile lingers on my face before I close my eyes.

My sarmaritan doesn't leave that night, nor does he the next day or the following days. And when autumn has passed and winter announces itself, I find his sword now laying on a small chest near my table, his clothes and armor laying next to my small bag of clothes and always two sets of spoons, cutlery and plates on the table. We start out slowly, as friends, though tehre is no doubt of our feelings. We just want to learn to get to know each other even better and it is going well.

It is on a cold winterday, Tristan outside hunting, that I raffle through my pack and to my surprise a piece of paper seems to fall out.

When I recognize the handwriting of Ysolde, I realize it is a letter..adressed to me. The letter is dated two years ago, even a while before I left Camelot. I break the seal open and then unfold the letter to start reading.

As I read Ysolde's letter, she explains exactly what Tristan has told me. And I realize he never knew of it and Ysolde did not know he planned to tell me.

I did not doubt him, but seeing it black on white, still takes my breath away. The final words in the letter, in a trembling hand make me sad, so badly I feel my throat constrict.

 ** _"If I could take back everything I did, my sweet Yseult, I would. If i could say sorry to you and show you gratitude for all the years i have missused you and taken you for granted, I would. I would trade all of my riches just to see you again, in health and happy._**

 ** _You are dear to me, my dear yseult, and I can't help but curse myself for being so selfish and spoiled._**

 ** _You are more to me then you know..._**

 ** _All my love,_**

 ** _Ysolde."_**

\- " You miss her." Tristan's voice comes from behind me. I nod. -" I do, so much." Tristan comes closer and bumps my shoulder, and for a moment we stand like that.

\- " You will see her again, I promise, and I have a feeling you will both talk it out." I sigh and then smile despite my sadness over Ysolde. - " Thank you, Tristan. How about I cook us lunch?"

I walk over to the small pot hanging near the fire. Then Tristan is there, taking hold of my hands. - " How about I help you?"

I nod and look up at him before laying my head on his shoulder for a moment. He lays his head on mine and we stay like that for a moment.

-" Lunch it is!" I say. And as outside the winds howl and the snow falls, I grin to myself, soothed by the sounds of Tristan humming as he starts skinning the rabbit he has caught and I stir the water in the pot now boiling over the water.

And as I turn to look, Tristan is looking at me so tenderly that I smile and face him head on, looking just as tenderly at him and I know, we are off to an amazing new start.


End file.
